Becoming Friends (FAM Zorro)
by icyfire
Summary: The alcalde has stopped chasing Zorro and started asking Diego for advice! What is he up to this time?
1. The Dream

Becoming Friends

Tonight, the nightmare was different.  It started as a pleasant dream:  He was walking the roads surrounding the _pueblo_, taking the time to notice the splendor of the terrain.  The beauty of the desert was something he had grown to appreciate over the years.  The wildness and the starkness appealed to his soul.  A feeling of peace he had never known surrounded him. 

Then, suddenly, like a gunshot, the peace abandoned him to be replaced by a feeling of overwhelming dread.  Escape was imperative.  From whom or what, he did not know.  He just had to escape!  He started to run, looking everywhere for safety from the unknown, but where could _he_ find refuge?

He began running towards the de la Vega _hacienda_.  Instinct directed his actions, insisting that he could find safety there.  He had to get there.  Abruptly, as it is in dreams, he was standing outside their garden.

A part of his mind, the one screaming in protest, realized that the nightmare had been a reality at one time.  The dream images were memories he refused to let go of, for reasons he refused to admit, even to himself.  He had struggled the last month to forget, but the memories insisted on staying, ignoring all his pleas and commands.  They would not be forced out of his mind like so many other uncomfortable ones had in the past.

Watching as Gilberto Resendo--aiming at Diego de la Vega--raised his pistol, he could hear the glee in Resendo's voice.  He reached down for his own firearm, as he had in reality, but in the dream world, it was not there.  He could only be a spectator of the horror playing out in front of his eyes.

"When I kill Diego de la Vega," Resendo chuckled.  "I also kill . . ."

"Zorro!"  With sweat dripping from his brow, the man sat up in his bed and heard his own voice echoing back at him.  Shaking his head in disbelief, Ignacio DeSoto gasped, "Diego de la Vega is Zorro?" 

***

_It has been one month and one day_, Diego thought.  Yesterday had been rough on his father, and, if he would admit it, himself.  Resendo had only spent a little over a week in their _pueblo_, but his presence had been felt everywhere on the one-month anniversary of his death.

Diego watched, pleased, as his father heartily ate Victoria's soup.  Looking over at the woman he was secretly engaged to, he noticed her smile brighten at the sight, too.  Even though _Don_ Alejandro had never known Gilberto, had never even known of his other son's existence until those last few moments, he had taken his death hard.  The lines around his eyes had deepened, and he walked like a man carrying a heavy burden on his back.

However, life was slowly returning to normal.  Occasionally, his father would smile without thought.  His shoulders were regaining their proud straight lines, and his eyes were healing from the emotional wound.  Diego could finally look in those eyes and not feel like crying for himself and for his father.  Maybe one day, thoughts of his brother and the vengeful lady who had stolen him would not cause torment.  Maybe one day, Diego could find it in his heart to forgive the midwife who had drugged his mother and stolen his twin brother almost from the womb, raising him to hate the name he should have been given at birth.

Glancing towards the entrance, Diego spotted Ignacio DeSoto standing there.  The _alcalde_'s uniform was perfectly pressed and spotless as usual.  However, the quiet, respectful manner that he now held himself was new.  Over the last month, the people of Los Angeles had been treated to a changed leader.  Instead of snapping orders without thinking, DeSoto now thought through the consequences.  Instead of refusing to hear the input of others, DeSoto sought it out, walking the streets, talking to the people he had been given the privilege to govern.

And he did seem to be considering it a privilege.  Diego had watched from a distance, amazed by DeSoto's questions and his new attitude.  Watching him had been a joy and a pain for Diego.  He had been right.  DeSoto, with his background, could have made a fine _alcalde_.  It hurt to see how good he could have been, if only he had not let a lust for power and respect overtake his common sense.

Forced to work for everything he wanted, DeSoto had taken excessive pride in his position in the community.  He forgot the station to which he had been born, and the pain he suffered.  Since his assignment to the office of _alcalde_, he had felt uncomfortable with the _peons_.  He only sought the company of the _caballeros_.

In the last month, Diego saw DeSoto not only ask the _caballeros_ their opinions on the government and what it should be doing--unheard of in itself--he also asked the _peons_ for suggestions!  The people had been leery.  While Diego had seen some of his brilliance at school, Los Angeles and its people had only seen the cruelty and the arrogance.  However, DeSoto's skills as an interrogator served him well.  Most people found themselves confiding in the man almost against their will.

Standing in the doorway, DeSoto shifted from foot to foot.  His eyes raced across the room, finally settling on Diego.  He hesitated a moment, and then smiled.  Walking briskly, he headed for the de la Vega table.  "Ah, good morning, _Don_ Alejandro, _Don_ Diego," he greeted them, making a proper bow.  "May I join you for a moment?"

Smiling, Alejandro waved his hand for the man to sit.  Since DeSoto had saved Diego's life, Alejandro struggled to consider the _alcalde_ a friend.  If he had questions about the man's new personality, he had yet to voice them.

But, then, Diego had never voiced any of his own concerns.  Instead, he watched the man closely and listened to everyone else's comments, eager to find DeSoto's slip.  The _alcalde_, however, had managed to stay in his new disposition.  No new taxes had been implemented and no old tax orders had been collected.  Diego's instincts screamed out in protest, but he could find no reason why he found DeSoto's strange behavior so unsettling.  After all, with DeSoto, everything would soon return to normal.

Focused on thoughts about the man's behavior, Diego did not even notice the sword in DeSoto's hands until he sat down.  Even though it was wrapped in a sheath, Diego knew it was not DeSoto's weapon.  Unlike Ramón, DeSoto's choice of foil had been practical and smart instead of beautiful.  He kept only a two in his room, and one was by his side at the moment.  DeSoto would not be carrying a sword to show to others.

He glanced towards Victoria, and saw her frown.  Having learned a lesson when Ramón's brother impersonated him, she did not believe the "new" DeSoto and had expressed her opinion on the subject to many people.  Like him, she waited for the one slip, that one hint, that would tell her what DeSoto was trying to do.  Seeing Diego look at her, she smiled and started walking over to the table.

DeSoto's odd behavior had provided some benefits for Diego.  The month of rest had allowed his arm to completely heal.  Back in top physical form, he had no reason to come to the _pueblo_ as Zorro--the lancers seemed to be handling what bandits were in the area.  After two weeks of no activity, he had finally come to visit Victoria.  He had been ready for battle, but he had not been bothered on that visit or any other one he had made since then.  His new freedom of movement was allowing him and Victoria to spend more time together in the last two weeks than they had the previous six years--at least as Zorro and Victoria.

Before anyone could say anything, Victoria arrived to ask the _alcalde_ if he needed anything.    "Yes," he answered with a smile and a nod.  "I would love a glass of your wonderful orange juice, please."  The improvement in DeSoto's manners had been noted and commented on also.

Raising her eyebrow, Victoria sauntered off to fill his order.  DeSoto looked at Alejandro and started making small talk.  Diego's trained eyes took in the constant shifting and the fingers gently thumping on the table.  DeSoto's eyelids blinked rapidly.  It was obvious to tell that the man was nervous, but Diego could not understand why.

Besides being anxious, DeSoto also had a particular interest in him this morning.  DeSoto's eyes kept straying over to Diego, even as he talked to_ Don _Alejandro.  The look in his eyes reminded Diego of a man seeing someone for the first time, or perhaps it was closer to the appearance of man seeing a ghost.  What was the _alcalde_ up to now?

Victoria walked back over and placed DeSoto's orange juice, with a little thump, in front of him.  "Anything else, _Alcalde_?" she asked.  He looked up at her and smiled again.  He must know what she felt towards him, but he gave no sign that it bothered him.  

"No, thank you.  I'm fine."  He watched her as she strolled away from the table.  Then, he turned to look at Diego.  "She's a beautiful lady, isn't she?" he asked with a note of appreciation in his voice.

Diego could not hide his reaction totally, although he tried.  He stiffened slightly, and his face became a hard mask.  _Don_ Alejandro's eyebrow rose at the sudden change in subject from cattle prices to the beautiful _señorita_ who owned the _pueblo_'s tavern.  "Yes, she is.  She was a beautiful child," Diego heard his father answer, but he hardly noticed.  His entire focus was on the _alcalde_, whose only interest appeared to be Diego's reaction and answer.  DeSoto, with a look in his eyes that made Diego uneasy, raised an inquiring eyebrow at his one-time schoolmate.

"Yes, she is a beautiful woman--inside and out," Diego answered, wearing a tight smile.  "I'd say every man in the _pueblo_ has noticed that fact."  DeSoto stared at him for a moment longer, as if making a decision.  He grinned slowly and returned his attention to _Don_ Alejandro.

"_Don_ Alejandro, I came looking for you today, because I have a favor to ask of you," he said rather loudly.  Relief flooded Diego; at last, the man was beginning to act like himself.  He wanted something.  "I know that you are a close friend and supporter of Zorro, and I need you to return something to him."  Diego's stomach twisted at the words.  What new game did DeSoto have planned for him later?  

Alejandro started to protest that he would be unable to return anything to the outlaw, but DeSoto kept talking.  "Last month, when he fought . . . When he was fighting on the rooftops, he dropped his sword, and I was hoping that you could return it to him.  It is a beautiful piece, and I believe it probably holds sentimental value for him."  DeSoto offered the sword towards _Don_ Alejandro.  

Diego could finally see the handle of the blade and knew with one glance it was his. The night after his brother's funeral, he had returned to look for it, but it had been nowhere to find.  He had feared it lost forever.  Now, the _alcalde_ was giving it to his father?  What was DeSoto up to this time?  Was he hoping to harm Alejandro in some way?  Maybe accuse him of treason?

DeSoto drained his glass and stood.  "I know you probably have no way of contacting him, but I have let the soldiers--including Mendoza," he said with a wry grin.  "Know that I was giving it to you.  I believe the whole _pueblo_ should know soon, and hopefully word will get to Zorro.  He should be at your _hacienda_ to claim it in a few days."

Alejandro raised his eyebrow, and his voice was cold in its calmness.  "Should I expect your soldiers to be surrounding my _hacienda_ for the next few nights?"

DeSoto laughed and waved his hand.  "Oh, no!  If I wanted to use it to capture Zorro, it would make more sense to leave it in my office.  True, he would be more prepared for battle, but I would be, too, and with more available troops at my command.  No, _Don _Alejandro, I simply want him to have his sword again.  Good day, Gentlemen."

Alejandro, with suspicion in his eyes, watched the _alcalde_ leave.  Diego noticed the look, pleased that his father had not given up _all_ his doubts about their appointed leader.  He performed a good deed in saving Diego's life; however, he had also shot Resendo to save his hide.  "What is it, Father?"

Sighing, Alejandro looked into his eyes.  "I am very thankful that he saved you, and I have tried to keep an open mind about his new behavior.  However, I do have my doubts.  I know it is impossible for a leopard to change his spots."  He shook his head.  "Then, I remind myself that a man isn't an animal."  Alejandro looked down at the sword in his hands.  "What is the _alcalde_ up to this time?"

Diego was unable to answer.  He was too busy asking himself the same question.


	2. The Sword, The Road, & The Reward

Becoming Friends 2

Later that same week, after Zorro retrieved his teacher's sword with no alarm being raised and no questions being asked by the _alcalde_, DeSoto called a _pueblo_ meeting.  He invited the leading _caballero_s, as expected.  However, he also included the leading and best-educated _peon_s in the area.  Even more surprising to Diego was the fact that he paid Victoria for the use of her tavern.

"I understand that times are tough, _Don_ Alejandro.  I _know_ that the people have been overtaxed.  However, I also know that the road between here and Santa Paula desperately needs improvement.  I want to identify a way that we can do it.  Any suggestions?"  Watching him, Diego thought that DeSoto genuinely seemed interested in hearing what the people had to say about his new tax plan.  He also watched the people's reactions to the new plan.  They were upset, but since DeSoto practically asked their permission, they were open to the idea.

DeSoto spun to look at Diego, who had been leaning on the bar behind him.  "_Don_ Diego, you have not said anything this evening, and I'm particularly interested in what you have to suggest."  Diego opened his mouth, but no words emerged.  DeSoto wanted to know _his_ opinion?

_Don _Carlos' booming laugh filled the air.  His father's old friend said between breaths, "Diego doesn't have many opinions about the government, _Alcalde_.  If it deals with books or art, he has something to say.  If not, he doesn't!  Everyone knows it."  

The _alcalde_ glanced at _Don_ Carlos wearing a pleasant smile that Diego believed to be false.  "Oh, I disagree, _Don_ Carlos.  I think Diego has many opinions on many different issues, but he has never chosen to share them with us."  The smile he gave _Don_ Alejandro was far more relaxed and real.  "With such an outspoken father, it is very easy to be hidden and ignored.  So, Diego, what is your opinion?"

Diego heard little warning bells going off in his mind, but he ignored them.  Just once, he wanted to show the people of this _pueblo_ that Diego de la Vega was not useless.  He wanted a chance to impress his father and his friends.  "I agree that the road to Santa Paula needs to be redone.  It is too important a road to ignore--our mail and most of our supplies come from Santa Paula.  The holes and ruts in the road have almost made it unmanageable in some areas.  However, I do not believe that the people of this _pueblo_ should be burdened with the costs of building a better road."

Looking at him intently, DeSoto nodded.  Diego could feel the others stares, heard their unspoken questions about the suddenness of the young de la Vega speaking his opinion or even having one to speak.  "The current road is used equally between the people of Santa Paula and Los Angeles.  I believe that the people of Santa Paula should bear half of the burden for the new road."

DeSoto's smile seemed genuine.  "I thought of that myself, Diego.  I've already sent a message to the_ alcalde_ of Santa Paula, and I do believe that the man is willing to accept my proposal.  However, they are also over-burdened from the taxes Spain has imposed on us to pay for the war, but they hope to have a plan on raising the funds themselves soon.  They, too, are anxious for a new road.  However, we are still left with half the cost of the road and no money to pay it."

Diego nodded at him, impressed despite himself with DeSoto's thinking and quick action.  "The military is a great benefactor of a better road between here and Santa Paula.  Most of the military supplies come through that _pueblo_, so I believe that the military should pay a fair portion of the amount needed."

The grin remained on DeSoto's face, and what it implied amazed Diego.  The _alcalde_ seemed to be enjoying the intellectual discussion in which they were engaged.  "True!  I have also thought of that fact.  I will admit that I could raise a third of the money needed from next year's military budget.  However, that does place the military in a very tight position.  Nothing could go wrong for the year, and I doubt that would happen.  I would prefer to only use the military budget to pay for a fourth of the road.  That leaves the people of Los Angeles with three-fourths of their half to pay."

Diego could not stop the grin from forming on his face.  He did not know why, but he was enjoying this exchange, too.  DeSoto of late often reminded him of the older student that he had admired from afar at University.  He really did seem to be trying to be a good leader, and he was thinking through problems and open to suggestions about fixing them.  "I also don't think it would be fair to burden the _peon_s with the tax for this road.  Very few of them ever leave their homes for other _pueblos_.  Most don't even use the mail system because they cannot read or write.  It would not be fair to burden them with any tax for this road," he repeated.  Diego could hear the murmurs of approval from the _peon_ leaders and of disapproval from most of the _caballero_s.  

"_This_, I had not thought about, de la Vega.  However, I feel I must point out that the _peon_s do benefit from the merchants using the road to bring in goods and from the military getting supplies," DeSoto answered.  He stood there with his fist under his chin.  "Shouldn't they receive at least part of the burden?"

"Normally, I would probably agree that a nominal tax would be fair.  However, they are just now starting the road to recovery after years of being overtaxed unfairly by you and Ramón."  Diego could hear the gasps of surprise that went through the room.  Tonight, Diego had gone farther in condemning the _alcalde's_ past actions than most in the room dared.  "I don't think taxing them would help the _pueblo_ or the people.  Have you considered not taxing the people for this road?"  Diego asked, suddenly struck by an idea.  Ramón had used it for his advantage, why could not Los Angeles use it to benefit the _pueblo_ as a whole?

"Not tax?" the _alcalde_ asked, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.  He leaned forward.  "How would we raise the money then?"

"How about investment?" Diego suggested.  "Ask the _caballero_s and merchants to invest in the road with a promised return on the bonds they buy."

"And we would pay interest on this investment how?"  The _alcalde_ voice held a note of interest.

"Tolls," Diego answered.  "We could offer this idea to Santa Paula also.  The new road could have select booths set along them where travelers pay a tax for using the road.  That way only the people who use the road will be burdened by its cost."

"A tax for using the road?  I've never heard of such an idea.  What would keep the people from using the old road instead of the new?"  DeSoto asked.  The people in the tavern were quiet as this exchange took place.  Diego could tell from how they were sitting what they were thinking; the idea interested them.  It could work.  Maybe.

"Nothing," he replied with a smile.  His mind was working rapidly, thinking through possible problems and solutions.  It could work.  "The people would be free to choose the old road if they want.  However, you told us tonight that the new road would shorten the distance between Santa Paula and Los Angeles.  It should take an hour off the travel time, you said.  With the current road falling apart, the time used for travel is only increasing.  The new route you described should also be safer, with fewer places where bandits could hide.  I believe most people would be happy to pay small tolls to be able to travel quicker, easier, and safer."

"You know, Diego, that might work," said _Don_ Carlos with a measure of respect for the young _don_ showing in his voice.  "I'm a constant user of the road and would be glad to have my time spent on it shortened.  I would be glad to pay small tolls to have a nice and faster road to travel on every week, and I would also be interested in possibly investing in this road construction."

Suddenly, the room erupted with ideas of what tolls should be charged and how much interest should be paid for investments.  Also, the people began discussing who would be sent to Santa Paula to present the idea to the leaders there.  DeSoto looked at Diego and grinned.  "I knew you had it in you, de la Vega.  You really should speak out more."  He turned and walked closer to the center of the discussion.  Diego could see the pride on Alejandro's face, and the sight of it twisted his heart.  For a few minutes, he had been a son of which a father, his father, could be proud.

"He's right, you know." Victoria was looking at him with respect in her eyes.  He had seen it there once before, after he had argued with the royal emissary in Santa Paula.  "You should speak out more and share your ideas.  You're wonderful at it."  She smiled and started to serve the men in her tavern fresh lemonade.

Diego leaned back, confused.  He was surprised at himself for "speaking out", even with the _alcalde_'s urging.  He knew that he needed to be unassuming in the _pueblo_ to hide his secret, but he had been unable to resist the challenge and the lure of gaining respect as Diego for a brief moment.  Something deep in his soul warned him that DeSoto had known it.  What was the _alcalde_ up to?

****

The following day brought with it a need for Zorro.  Three bandits had attacked the carriage bringing a small fortune in jewels to _Don_ Sebastian.  They killed the courier bringing the gems—-a man Zorro believed had been involved in the plot to rob the kind landowner.  With all the secrecy surrounding the gems, he was the most likely choice for being the thief's informant about the jewelry and the route.  They had betrayed him in the end by putting a bullet between his eyes.

Putting on the black mask and cape to challenge the robbers had been a relief.  Lately, he had only worn it to court Victoria.  Riding into the _pueblo_, with the bandits--all with "Z"s cut into their clothing--sitting on their horses behind him, was an even greater relief.  Now, he would at last be able to see the real Ignacio DeSoto and maybe put his unease to rest.

"These bandits already had rewards on their heads.  I assume you wish me to put the bounty in the church poor box?"  DeSoto asked, after noticing whom Zorro had brought with him.  He calmly looked up at the outlaw he had tried for so long to capture.

Zorro shook his head to clear the mental fog.  Expecting to hear the usual "Zorro!  After him!" command, he again found a relaxed and friendly _alcalde_.  "Excuse me?" he asked without thought.  He could tell that the soldiers and people in the plaza were also confused.  Even Toronado was uneasy with the change of routine.  Zorro could tell that the great stallion was ready to run.

The _alcalde_ smiled, bringing his hand to his chest.  "I'm sorry, Zorro.  I'm making assumptions again.  I assumed that you haven't captured them for the reward, since you haven't received any for your previous captures, and I thought you would not wish to receive this one either and might like it to be contributed to the church poor box.   Would you rather collect it, or perhaps give it to some other charity?"

"The church poor box will be fine," Zorro managed to answer.  His voice was unsure and weak, very unlike it usually was.

"Very well."  Ignacio DeSoto smiled up at the masked man.  He waved for Mendoza and his men to take away the prisoners.  "The church poor box shall be richer in a short time.  Now, if you will excuse me, I must return these gems to _Don_ Sebastian, with a warning to use more trustworthy men to escort such valuables in the future."

"The courier was killed by the bandits," Zorro argued, even though he too believed in the man's guilt.

"True, and I hope that I am making a mistake in believing the worst.  However, from what little you and the coachman and _Don_ Sebastian have told me, I think the courier was the only man who could have informed the bandits that such a treasure was on the coach.  Few, if anyone else, knew that there would be such a treasure arriving at our _pueblo_ today.  Anyway, thank you again for stopping them from being able to rob another good citizen and for returning the gems.  Good day."  DeSoto turned and walked towards his office.  He left behind a confused outlaw, a more confused group of lancers, and a lot of citizens who refused to believe what they saw and heard.

Zorro turned Toronado towards the _pueblo_'s entrance.  He could see his own shock mirrored on the lancers' faces.  His father and Victoria, mouths wide open, were standing next to the tavern.  He felt an insane urge to laugh.  Instead, he did something he had never been able to do before--he rode Toronado out of the _pueblo_ at a leisurely trot.  No one followed and no bullets flew after him.


	3. The Deaths

Becoming Friends 3

Later, Diego de la Vega, along with his father and Victoria, sat on one of the tavern's outdoor tables.  He immediately stopped talking when he noticed the _alcalde_ walking over to the church.  Smiling, DeSoto chatted with the _padre_ for a moment, before handing him a small bag that obviously contained coins.

DeSoto actually gave the reward to the church instead of keeping it for himself.  Diego somehow managed to keep from dropping his glass.  As he had rode home earlier, he convinced himself that DeSoto must have wanted the reward money for himself.  What better way to hide it than claim it went into the Church poor box?  _Padre_ Benitez would not reveal that the money had never made it there.  Only, as Diego could see for himself, it had.

Shaking her head, Victoria voiced the question that had been echoing in Diego's mind for over a month.  "What is he up to this time?"

***

The tavern was busy for lunch on the following Saturday.  Everyone there was discussing the _alcalde_ and his recent actions.  Diego noticed that more people were defending DeSoto.  He had been a remarkable leader in the last few weeks, helping many _peon_s straighten out past tax bills and many farmers had woke up to find DeSoto and his soldiers ready to aid them with crop harvesting.  He was beginning to make many friends in the _pueblo_.

The tavern became silent as the man everyone was talking about entered.  He simply grinned and pretended not to notice the silence.  He smiled at Victoria, who returned it.  Even she had softened some towards this new DeSoto.  She told everyone that while she did not trust him, he was charming.

_Don_ Pedro De Sotto stood at the counter.  DeSoto stopped next to the _caballero_ to place his order for juice.  De Sotto greeted the _alcalde_ and asked him if he had heard the news:  young Miguel recently purchased some land adjacent to his with money received from the sale of Firestar's offspring.  After receiving the deed to the property, he asked Maria to marry him.

"I think they make a wonderful couple," Victoria injected, her own face beaming with pleasure at the news.  She sat the glass or orange juice down in front of DeSoto.

He smiled at her.  He leaned on the counter and looked her straight in the eyes.  "I'll tell you who I always thought would make a wonderful couple--you and Diego."  His voice carried over the room and again the room, which had slowly started regaining its former noise, fell completely silent.

Alejandro, who was sitting nearby with Diego, laughed first.  Other quickly joined in.  "My son and Victoria?  You must be joking!"

DeSoto laughed but without joy.  "No, actually, _Don_ Alejandro, I am not.  They have a lot in common.  Both are eternal do-gooders, always caring about those who are less fortunate.  I cannot tell you two people who have done more charitable acts than they have.  Even you don't come close to what your son or Victoria have done, _Don_ Alejandro."

"Diego--well, he is my best friend.  There is another one for me," Victoria protested.  Wiping the bar in front of her, Victoria never looked up at DeSoto.

To Diego, DeSoto's smile seemed a little sad.  "Yes, I know.  The great romance of the plaza," he said in a kind voice, watching her hands busily move across the wood.  "However, I would still recommend you marry Diego.  Romance is not all it's reported to be.  My mother and father had a great _romance_, but no friendship.  After the stars in their eyes faded, they found they did not even like one another."  DeSoto winked at Victoria when she looked up from her task.  "For all you--or we--know, Diego is the man under the mask."

The entire tavern erupted in laughter again.  Alejandro rolled his eyes, and Victoria flashed a quick smile over at Diego, obviously pleased that the awkward scene was over.  Only Diego was concerned by the _alcalde_'s words, because he was the only one who knew they held the truth.

****

Zorro was finding it hard to keep his sanity; especially with all the time he spent in Victoria's presence.  Being in Victoria's arms, enjoying her kisses, intoxicated him with joy.  Losing himself in her embrace seemed to be a real possibility, and that was not acceptable to him.  He wanted to remain a gentleman instead of a cad with the woman he loved.

"Victoria," he gasped between kisses.  "Victoria," he moaned when her fingers unfastened one more button on his shirt.  "I have to--" More kisses stopped him for a moment.  "I have to . . . leave . . . now."

With a resolve he had feared lost, he managed to gently push himself away from the beautiful _señorita_.  They both stared at one another, breathless.  Tonight had been wonderful.  First, they shared a picnic beside a beautiful stream in the moonlight, discussing their dreams in great detail, or at least in as great of detail that Zorro could share without revealing his identity.  Then, they had managed to return to the tavern without being bothered.

In the last three months, he had spent more time as Zorro courting Victoria than he had been fighting for justice.  The _alcalde_'s recent training of his soldiers made them able to handle most of the crime that occurred in the area, so Zorro spent little time in capturing the few the lancers were unable to handle.  Each time he brought in a criminal, he received a smile from the _alcalde_ and a question as to what he wanted done with the reward money if the bandit had a price on his head.  That alone was enough to drive a sane man mad.

But worse was the time he spent with Victoria.  Without the constant threat of the lancers, he found himself relaxing more in her presence, which left him perilously close to losing his common sense.  They were walking a dangerous tightrope, and he had to use all of his self-control to stop himself from becoming a man who could take advantage of a woman.  Victoria, unfortunately, was being uncooperative.  A passionate lady, she was tired of waiting.  DeSoto had better show his true colors soon, or Zorro would be as crazy as his namesake.

A sudden, loud knock on Victoria's bedroom door caused her and Zorro both to tense.  Then, there was another knock accompanied by a soft "Victoria" on the other side.  The _alcalde_'s voice was well known by the occupants of the room.  

Victoria looked at Zorro, expecting him to leave.  Instead, he shook his head, placing his fingers over his mouth.  He walked to a corner of the room, hiding in the shadows while Victoria opened the door.

"What is it you want, _Alcalde_?"  Victoria's voice showed her displeasure at DeSoto's presence.  Zorro forced himself not to smile from his enjoyment of her forthright nature.

"I'm sorry, _Señorita_," DeSoto bowed as he apologized.  "I'm afraid I have a need for Zorro.  I must speak with him immediately."

"He is not here," Victoria lied to the man with no hesitation in her voice.  If Zorro had not known he was in the room, he would have believed her.

"I'm sorry, _Señorita_, but I know that he is," DeSoto replied, managing to actually sound apologetic.  "I saw him enter almost an hour ago.  He may have left, but the radiance of your eyes tells me he is still near.  Honestly, Victoria, it is important that I speak to him."

Zorro found himself walking out of the shadows without thought, drawn to what the man had to say.  Having spent many hours recently as Diego with this man, he believed the distress in his voice was real.  "What do you need, _Alcalde_?"

DeSoto lips twisted up, but it was a sad, grim mockery of a smile.  "Perhaps, we could talk downstairs, so that we would not disturb the _señorita_'s customers who paid for a night of rest?"

***

Sitting at the table across from his archenemy, or at least, the man who used to be, Zorro studied him.  He took note of the slumped shoulders, the red eyes, and the pale skin.  He was uncertain what his relationship with DeSoto was at the moment, be it friend or foe, but he knew the other man was in emotional pain.  Something was truly bothering the _alcalde_ tonight.

"I'm sorry.  I did not want to bother you, but you are the best tracker in the area, and we need your help tracking down some . . ." DeSoto stopped and sighed.  His hands trembled as he took a drink of _tequila_.  "I'm sorry.  I've lost men before, but I . . . they died so horribly."  DeSoto's voice cracked as he talked.  He took another drink from the glass, grimacing as the liquor burned its way down his throat.

Zorro leaned forward, his body poised for action.  "You've lost men?"  He could not hide the horror from his voice.  He did not even bother to try.  Death was a cruel constant in the territory, but Zorro never managed to become immune to its horror.  Perhaps his own mother's death, at too young of an age, had helped him to remember the pain death causes to love ones.

DeSoto took several deep breaths before speaking again.  His eyes remained focused on the glass in front of him.  He spoke numbly, as if he did not believe the story he was telling.  "Yes, they were out on patrol when they were attacked.  I don't know why."  Suddenly, DeSoto stood and started to pace.  His voice raised a notch from anger as he continued to tell the story.  "They had nothing on them but their swords.  No money or anything else of value.  Their horses were left with the bodies, the saddlebags untouched.  A search party found them just a little over an hour ago.  I expected that they had gotten themselves lost, not killed."  Zorro heard the _alcalde_ a small, short horrified gasp before choking out, "Martin was not the best when it came to direction."

"Martin," Zorro whispered.  Closing his eyes, he could easily picture the young man who had only begun to shave last month.  A true joy for anyone to be around, he found all of the soldiers eager to accept him into their brotherhood, loving him as if he had been a part of their ranks for years.  The citizens of Los Angeles also enjoyed the presence of the young, sweet man.  Too immature to even consider marriage, he was now dead.  Sergeant Mendoza would be devastated by the boy's loss, for he had treated the man as a kid brother.

DeSoto again began speaking, struggling to tell the story.  His tone of voice swung wildly from calm to hysterical.  "Yes, he and four others were . . . Sergeant Mendoza found them.  He would not have recognized them, except for the fact they were in their uniforms.  Their faces were beaten so badly that they were unrecognizable, all the bones broken and the skin . . . He said at first he thought wild beasts had attacked them; there was so much blood.  Then, he realized that animals would not have left them laid out in a perfect little row and that the cuts in their flesh were from sabers not claws."  DeSoto gasped again, obviously holding back tears.  "They were all too young, and no one deserves to d-die like _that_."

The room was quiet for several minutes as both men digested what DeSoto had just said.  Having been so lost in the story, Zorro had not noticed Victoria walking out of the kitchen to join them.  When he finally felt her looking at him, he raised his eyes to meet hers.  Shivering, she hugged her arms tightly together.  The tears streaming down her face tore at his heart.  He wished he could walk over there and kiss away the memories.  He wished he could forget them himself.  He wished he could leave the responsibility of the mask behind forever.  

"Can we depend on your help to find these beasts, Zorro?"  DeSoto asked after he had composed himself.

"Of course," Zorro said, knowing that wishes such as those were impossible to fulfill.  Even if there were no Zorro, he could never forget his responsibilities.  

He might not trust the _alcalde_, but he needed to put a stop to the murderers before anyone else was harmed.  Sometimes, justice came too late, but he wanted--needed--to find it for Martin and those other men.  Zorro took a moment to kiss Victoria goodbye, and both men walked out of the tavern together.


	4. The Shooting

Becoming Friends 4

"They will be hanged at four o'clock this afternoon.  Men prepare the gallows," DeSoto said when the arrived in the plaza.  Behind him was the wagon carrying the Lopez gang, the men who had tortured, maimed, and murdered five of Los Angeles' soldiers.

Even _Don _Alejandro did not speak out in protest.  The dead men had family and friends in the area.  Zorro almost spoke out for a trail, but he knew it was useless.  Besides, there really was no need for one in this case.  The men had all been found guilty of hanging offenses months before, but had somehow managed to escape before finding the noose.  From what few words had been spoken since their capture last night, Zorro suspected that their last jailer had agreed to a bribe.  Not to hang them now was to take a chance of them escaping again.

DeSoto, his arm hanging in a sling, sighed and followed his men into his office.  Zorro looked over at the tavern to where Victoria and his father stood.  He yearned to go over there, to find comfort in their presence.  He wanted to eat and to relax.  Last night had been difficult for him.  This morning had been even worse.  However, someone needed him, and Zorro always tried to answer a call for help, even if the person had not said the words.  He walked into the _alcalde's _office.

DeSoto stood, looking out the window.  Zorro could see the bustle of the people in the plaza outside, but he knew DeSoto was not seeing the same image.  Instead, his mind was on the men he had lost.

None of the soldiers were in the room.  They were all in the jail with the prisoners.  They were not taking any chances with the men.  Mendoza was there, so Zorro did not have to worry about the lancers abusing Lopez or his men.  Even though his own pain would want to take itself out on the men, Mendoza would not touch them in that way.  His own conscious would prevent it, and the men's love for their kind sergeant would make sure they obeyed.

"Ignacio, what is wrong?"  Zorro winced at his own slip.  As Diego, he had grown used to calling him by his name.  As Zorro, he should have still referred to him by title.  He was too tired.  He should have gone to the tavern.  He should have gone to the _hacienda_ to sleep.  He should have tried to help DeSoto later.

DeSoto apparently was too lost in thought to notice that his enemy was now calling him by name.  "I arrested those men four months ago, Zorro."

He nodded, wondering why that was bothering the _alcalde_.  "They should have already been hanged."

DeSoto shook his head.  "I was not even thinking about that, Zorro.  I did not go out of my way to hunt them because of their crimes, although I guess that did have some--" He sighed, running a shaking hand through his hair.  "I went after those men because _I_ wanted that _bounty_.  Bounty, Zorro.  Money.  And because of my greed, five of my men are dead."

Crossing his arms, Zorro tried to find words to comfort him.  "Ignacio," he said, deciding that acting as a friend was more important than worrying about manners.  "_They_ did the murdering and the robbing.  _They_ broke the law.  Your job, and the job of your men, is to stop them.  You did.  And if your motives were not pure, your actions were still the correct ones."

DeSoto shook his head.  "I keep seeing their faces covered in blood--and gold.  The gold I got for arresting Lopez the first time."

"You've started to train your men on how to be better soldiers, Ignacio.  Are you going to now have them stop arresting the bandits?  Should I expect my workload to increase?"  Zorro held his breath.  Not because he was worried about what he needed to do, but he was proud of what the lancers of Los Angeles were becoming.  The _pueblo_ needed the soldiers to be well trained.  They should have been taught years ago some of the basics that DeSoto was finally covering.

DeSoto turned away from the window.  He snorted and managed to smile.  "Worried I'm going to put you to work?" he tried to tease, even though his heart was obviously not in it.  "No, Zorro, I'm not going to let this keep my soldiers from doing what they are supposed to do.  Even without the gold, my men would have arrested Lopez.  I might not have tracked them down so hard, but I would have tracked them down.  They were murderers."

"And _they_ murdered Martin, Cortez, Morales, Botto, and Hilaro.  Not you," he said.

DeSoto slowly nodded.  "Perhaps, you are right Zorro, but I cannot forget my role in their death.  I don't think I should."

Zorro remembered the man he had accidentally killed over a year before.  A murder who had raided Los Angeles and held the _pueblo_ under siege.  Even his own father had not thought the man worthy of mourning, but he could not forget his part in that man's death.  He did not think he should allow himself to forget.  He nodded, letting DeSoto know that he understood.

DeSoto sat down at his desk.  He began rolling up the maps that had been thrown on top of it.  The disarray of his desk was a sign of how quickly he had responded and how upset he had been at the news.  DeSoto liked things _neat_.  "Will you be here for the execution?"

Without thinking, he shook his head.  "No, _Alcalde_, I won't."

He stopped rolling up his maps.  "You agree, Zorro, that they deserve to die.  They have been tried in a court of law and found guilty of hanging offenses."

Zorro nodded.  "Yes, _Alcalde_, but I have no desire to see Death win.  He is a cruel creature, even to those found guilty of acting worse than animals."

DeSoto shook his head as he filed his papers in a desk drawer.  "Try as I might, I don't think I'll ever understand you."

Zorro felt the tiredness sink into his muscles.  "What do you mean?"

Leaning back in his chair, DeSoto waved his hand.  "You--you are this great mass of contradiction to me, Zorro.  You fight every day almost for what you believe, and yet you have no real joy in the fight itself.  You like winning, but--" DeSoto again shook his head.  "You have the makings of a great soldier, only you would be a very bad one if you understand what I mean."

Zorro smiled, even though his heart skipped a beat in surprise at DeSoto's comments.  He had not realized that the man had been studying him so closely.  Maybe that was what was behind the change of attitude--a chance to learn his enemy.

"Go home and get some rest, my friend.  You deserve it," DeSoto said, returning his attention to the blank pages before him.  Zorro knew that the death proclamations would be written there before the hour was gone.

"I can't, _Alcalde_.  There was one member of the gang that escaped.  I noticed that his horse had left the camp, but he had not returned.  I have to go and find him.  Please tell your guards to be on alert for any possible attack, especially during the hanging."

"I had not realized that one was still loose," DeSoto said, dropping his quill.  He stood to follow Zorro out the door.  "Thank you for letting me know.  You had better follow your own advice.  You helped us capture that group, even if you did not do the actual arresting.  I'm sure they would be happy at your death."

They stopped beside Toronado.  "I will, _Alcalde_."  He pulled himself up into the saddle.  He nodded his goodbye and turned his horse towards home.  A shot rang out through the plaza.  Before Zorro could even wonder who was being shot at, he felt the searing pain in his chest.  He saw the shock on DeSoto's face as the man reached out to grasp Toronado's reigns.  The brilliant stallion, sensing that something was wrong with the man in his saddle, and not trusting the man reaching for him, bolted.

Zorro did not have the energy to guide his horse.  He knew that Toronado was heading home, and he hoped that Felipe would be waiting in the cave for their return.  If not, Zorro would be in trouble.  He would not be able to walk the few feet needed to get help.  Zorro grasped the reigns and held on tight.  He would not be conscious for much longer.


	5. The Confession

Becoming Friends 5

Diego moaned as he opened his eyes, wincing as bright light hit them.  Struggling to force his lids to remain open, he felt his eyes water.  His view of the room was blurry.  What happened?  Where was he?

Finally, his eyesight cleared, and he was able to look around the room--his room.  Then, he noticed Ignacio DeSoto sitting next to his bed.  Memories flooded his mind.   He remembered the intense pain of a bullet entering his chest and the wild ride home to the _hacienda_ before passing out from the blood loss.  What had happened since then?  

His hand started towards his head to check for the mask before he stopped it.  To check to see if it had been removed would only be a conformation for DeSoto.  Noticing the slight hand movement, the _alcalde_ smiled.

"I'm sorry, Diego, but your mask was removed almost a week ago.  I'm also sorry it's me your waking up to, but I finally managed to convince your father, Victoria, and Felipe to get to some sleep.  I'm glad to see that you are awake.  We came close to losing you a few times.  Rest some more while I go wake up Doctor Hernandez."  Nodding, DeSoto marched out of the room.

Diego lay in his bed, shaking.  What had happened?  DeSoto obviously knew his secret, but seemed unconcerned by it.  Diego found it amazing that he was in his own bed instead of a jail cell--or hanging from the end of a rope!  

"We should wake them," he heard Dr. Hernandez argue as two sets of footsteps approached his bedroom.

"No, I want you to make sure he's all right before we bother them.  You know that they have not had enough sleep.  I also wanted a chance to talk to him alone before they all surrounded him," DeSoto answered as they walked into Diego's room.

"It's good to see you up, young man.  You gave us all quit a scare.  I am so thankful for that medicine you made up.  I'm not sure I'd been able to help you without it.  It took your fever down almost immediately!"  Dr. Hernandez was exuberant, an odd state for him.  Diego shifted uneasily on the bed.  "Now, let me get a look at you to see how you are coming along."

"Medicine?"  Diego asked weakly, wondering at the words as well as the attitude.  Shouldn't the good doctor be questioning how a young _don _managed to get shot on the same day as Zorro?

"Yes, Felipe said you had been working on making it from some tree bark.  What ever it is, it's amazing."  Diego did not bother to ask any more questions.  His head hurt enough without trying to sort through information that made no sense.  He knew what medicine the kind old man was talking about now, but he did not understand how or why Felipe would give it to the doctor.  How were his injuries explained to the doctor?

Hernandez answered that question himself when he was done examining him.  "Diego," Dr. Hernandez began, his tone serious.  "I want to thank you for everything you have done for this _pueblo_.  I give aid to the soldiers, too, and I know that your body is covered in more scars than any of them combined.  I know--with your station in life, you could live the life of leisure you've always pretended to live.  I--I cannot thank you enough for choosing to fight for justice instead."

Diego, his mouth hanging open, watched as the doctor quickly left the room.  DeSoto chuckled.  "Yes, Diego, the secret is out--at least to a few people.  Most everyone, including Mendoza thinks we've ridden--that is Diego and I have--to see the governor over some bond issues.  Few believe that Zorro was really hurt.  After all, Zorro is indestructible, you know."  Diego winced at the words.  Sometimes he did not like the people's attitudes towards him.  Making him something more--or less--than human was one of those he did not enjoy.

DeSoto sat back into his deserted chair.  "I must warn you, though, that _Don _Alejandro and _Señorita _Victoria might not be as thankful as Hernandez.  They have both been angry, hurt, confused, and a few other emotions this week--that's how long you've been unconscious--six days.  Victoria threatened to kiss you until your toes curl or to kill you painfully when you awakened, and, to be honest, I'm not sure which one she will do.  Your father will either hug you and cry or yell at you so loudly that they will hear him in the _pueblo_."

Diego sighed, closing his eyes slowly, not wanting to "see" a truth he could not deny.  "And you know."

When he forced himself to look, he found a large grin covering DeSoto's face.  "Oh, but I've known for over three months, Diego.  I've already worked my way through all of those silly emotions.  I've been just praying that you would awaken," he answered, a slight mocking lilt to his voice.

"Three months?"  Diego opened his mouth, but no words came out of it.  The man before him had tried many times to kill and capture him, but after finding out the identity of the man behind the mask, he had done nothing.  It made no sense.  It did not seem possible.

"That is a long time," said a stern voice from the doorway.  Diego turned his head slowly to see Victoria, his father, and Felipe standing there.  _Don_ Alejandro's attention was focused on the _alcalde_, and Victoria refused to look in his direction, although he could sense her desire to do so.  Only Felipe's eyes met his.  He wore a smile, but Diego could see his exhaustion.  "Why didn't you do anything to him?  Arrest him and hang him, which has been your desire since you arrived?  You've played your game long enough, DeSoto.  None of us have figured it out, but maybe now we will know.  What do you plan to do to my son, _Alcalde_?"  Alejandro's anger could be felt in the room.  While it was currently directed at DeSoto, Diego knew he would soon find it 

DeSoto held up a hand, shaking his head.  "I've refused, _Don _Alejandro, to answer any of your questions until Diego regained consciousness.  I was going to tell him first, but why don't you all come in, and I'll share it all at once.  I originally planned to let Diego decide what he wanted you to know, but I do not believe he's going to have any secrets left after each one of you get done with him!"  Looking at his family, Diego agreed.

"First, _Don_ Alejandro, let me assure you that I have not been playing any games, and if I wanted to do something to your son, I would have done it along time ago," DeSoto began.  "I know that Diego told you all a little of my background--the economic struggle of my parents, and the hard work I had to put in to succeed at the university.  Even as a smile child, I always wanted more, and I did not always play fair to get it."  Looking down at his feet, he shook his head.  "I even stole my little sister's Christmas presents!"

He smiled tightly at the look on Victoria's face.  "I admit that I am responsible for my own actions, _Señorita_, but my parents were not great examples.  They hated each other, and they played games using my sister and me as pawns.  I wanted to be my mother's favorite, but Fernandina had been given that privilege.  I was my father's favorite, but mother had the soft hands and the beautiful voice.  My father had hard fists, and he did not believe in spoiling a child with praise."

Diego winced, and he suspected everyone else in the room did, too.  DeSoto continued to talk, ignoring their sympathy.  "Since I watched my parents always justify their petty, childish actions, I learned how to do it, too.  I could always justify my actions to myself, having some distorted view of the world and myself.  Like my parents, I believed it _owed_ me something."

"With Resendo," he said as he turned away from them.  He stopped at the window farthest from the bed and looked out of it.  "I was able to get a clear portrait of myself, and for the first time, I did not like what I saw at all.  Resendo made decisions with no good reason--my execution, for example.  Everything was about power to him, and I could see that same hunger in me.  He became my looking glass, and the reflection revealed a monster."

Turning to look at Diego, DeSoto walked towards his old enemy.  "His decisions were similar to those I had made in many ways.  I had done the same actions many times.  I realized when I saw the _Z_ carved in his check--oh, how I smiled at that sight--that I had no respect for him.  Yes, I feared him, but that did not make me want to follow his orders.  I was thrilled at Zorro's behavior, and _I _cheered him on, hoping that he would drive Resendo out of our _pueblo_!  Everything I had accused the people of Los Angeles doing, never understanding why the people loved Zorro, I did.  It was only under direct threat of death that I looked for Zorro, and even then I--I understood what the people felt.  I wanted him to win."

Diego listened with amazement, never believing that DeSoto would ever allow himself to be so vulnerable.  Finally, he could understand the _alcalde_'s dramatic shift in character.  It had been real, even though Diego had tried to deny it, tried to find some mistake in the act.  

Realizing the truth, Diego's heart began to sing.  Finally, a leader of great character was leading Los Angeles.  Zorro could relax, perhaps even retire and have the family he wanted.

"After Resendo's death," DeSoto continued with a sad smile on his face.  "I felt relief, and tried to justify my actions again.  I was not a coward like _Don_ Diego, I told myself--sorry, but that is what I told myself.  I was just trying to look after the people."  DeSoto snorted at his own comment.  "I could not justify my actions this time.  I could not forget what I had felt and learned.  I tried.  _I really, really tried_."

He turned to face the _caballero_ who had spoken out against him the most over the years.  "I'm sorry, _Don_ Alejandro, but I went to Resendo's funeral out of military duty and a sense of glee.  The turnout for the funeral amazed me.  When his Lieutenant had been buried, only those of us required to be there were.  When the emissary died, the entire _pueblo_ turned out, and not out of a sense of duty or joy, but out of respect for you _and_ for Diego.  I was awed.  I knew how the people felt about him, but I also realized what they felt for you for the first time.  I'd always told myself that your wealth had more to do with the reverence the people showed you than anything else you did.  That day, I saw that the people were not there for your wealth, but to comfort you in your grief.  You had the esteem I so craved, but you did not get it from inspiring fear.  You did it by showing respect for them and for their needs.  You cared for them so they cared for you."

DeSoto laughed again, but it was a sound of pain.  "I tried to forget that lesson, too.  Every night became torture, as I forced myself to crawl into bed.  There were some nights that I fell asleep at my desk where I sat doing paperwork so I could avoid sleeping.  Every night, I dreamed of different ways I could die.  I dreamed that Mendoza followed orders--I could not figure out why he had not.  I've treated him terribly over the years.  I dreamed of Resendo laughing and laughing and laughing as he killed me by some new, horrifying method.  I felt as if I were going mad.  I tried to avoid the office where so many memories of him were.  So, I started to talk to the people.  I do not know why, but I actually began to listen to them.  Their needs became clear in my mind, and I wanted to help them."  He pulled gently on his beard.  "Then, I realized that I could.  After all, I was their leader, the one chosen to help by the King himself!"

"Then, one month to the day, the nightmare changed, and I was standing out in your garden."  Diego heard his father softly catch his breath.  They all knew what had happened in the garden.  DeSoto's lips trembled as he spoke.  "Resendo was ready to kill again, as I had dreamed every night, but he was not aiming at me this time.  He was aiming at Diego.  I reached for my gun and found it was missing.  I stood there, knowing that I was going to have to watch him kill Diego.  He was talking, like he did that day, only this time he got to finish what he was saying.  'When I kill Diego de la Vega,' I heard him say, 'I also kill . . .'"


	6. The Beginning

Becoming Friends 6

"Zorro," Diego finished for him.  His own nightmares, played out during the nights since Resendo's confession and death, had been similar.  Dreams where those he loved discovered his secret and hated him for it.  Dreams where his father was the one shot or Victoria or Felipe.  The nightmares had been endless.

Nodding slowly, DeSoto walked back over to the window.  "I woke up from that dream, and I could not sleep.  I kept trying to prove it wrong."  He chuckled.  "I thought through it logically for once.  I centered on Victoria first--it was one thing we knew about Zorro."  His eyes briefly rested on the tavern owner, who blushed and looked down at her feet.

"Zorro loves her, we all know that to be true, and a man in love is drawn to that woman like a moth is to a flame.  Thinking carefully, I believed he would not be able to stay away from her, that he had to be around her when he was not wearing the mask.  I tried to think of who was with her the most often.  Outside of Sergeant Mendoza who, as beautiful as the _señorita_ is, is far more attracted to her cooking, Diego de la Vega spent the most time with her.  Oh, well, I thought, one test proves nothing," DeSoto said with another soft chuckle.  Victoria's eyes briefly rested on Diego before looking away.  He wondered what the look in her eyes meant.  Could she forgive him?  Could she love plain Diego?

"Ahh-ha," DeSoto said, slapping his fist into his palm.  "I'd prove my new idea wrong by thinking about all the times I'd seen Diego and Zorro together.  Easy enough!  Only, I could not remember a single time.  In fact, all I could remember were all the comments about Diego missing Zorro yet again.  Diego had not even been there when Zorro rescued _Don _Alejandro from being executed for being Zorro!"

"Executed for being Zorro?  What?"  Alejandro looked around the room.  Diego knew he looked guilty, as did his fellow conspirators.

"I'll explain it to you later, Father," Diego answered meekly, hoping his weakened state would give him some reprieve from _Don_ Alejandro's anger, but doubting it would.

Alejandro glared at his son.  "You have so much to explain to me, my son, that you will probably still be explaining when Felipe's grandchildren are running about!"  A brief grin flashed on the face of the young man they were discussing.  He glanced at father and then at son, before shaking his head in amusement.

DeSoto laughed again, but this time it was genuine.  "I hope you'll still let him help me out occasionally with the government, _Don_ Alejandro.  He has really helped guide me into being a better leader.  Anyway, I thought about that time I unmasked your father.  He was in Zorro's costume--I had never questioned where he could have possibly gotten it.  Would it have been possible for him to get it from this _hacienda_?  If Diego was Zorro, it had to be here somewhere.  No, I tried to tell myself, Diego is not Zorro--he's the _last_ person anyone would believe was Zorro!"

"That made me think about Diego," DeSoto confessed.  "The quiet, unassuming man could show a temper on occasion, like he did with Thackery.  Fighting a raging bull in the plaza showed his courage.  What if all the bookish, foppish actions were just an act?  If no one expected Diego to be at a protest or a _pueblo_ meeting, why would they be surprised that he was not there?  If he were not there, that left him free to act as Zorro, and his milksop attitude would keep anyone from wondering if they were the same person.  It seemed like every test I could think of had Zorro and Diego de la Vega being the same person!"

"It was in the tavern the next morning that I could place the final piece."  DeSoto sighed, leaning back against the wall behind him.  "I watched you carefully.  I listened to the tone of voice.  You were furious at my comment about Victoria, but you tried to hide it in a casual tone of voice.  Sitting there, looking at you, I knew it was true.  That's why I gave your sword back to your father; you were Zorro.  You know the rest.  I started to draw you into _pueblo_'s politics, forcing you to shine for your father.  From their actions and words, I deduced that Alejandro and Victoria did not know, and thought it was a shame.  I wanted to help to you as you had tried to help me over the years, but I knew _you_ had to make the decision to share your secret with them."

"Unfortunately, you were shot before you could do so, and they found out anyway," DeSoto said, rubbing his eyes.  He looked at Diego, his eyes full of sadness.  "The man who shot you is dead--I know you well enough now to know that it gives you no comfort.  As Toronado raced from the plaza, I grabbed Doctor Hernandez as quickly and unnoticeably as I could and rode here.  _Don_ Alejandro and Victoria saw me leaving with the doctor, raced after us, and were surprised to find me bringing him here.  I rushed in and found Felipe--I'd also figured out that he knew and was not deaf . . ."

"Felipe isn't deaf?"  Alejandro and Victoria both said at the same time.  Two sets of eyes suddenly focused on the uncomfortable young man.  Diego could see the blush on Felipe's cheeks, but he and the man who was about to become his son by law both knew it was time.  Felipe was no longer the unsure young boy he had been when Diego had returned, and he had long ago outgrown the fear that his ability to hear would mean the loss of those he loved.

"As you said, Father," Diego said with a smile, drawing attention back to him.  "I'll be explaining until Felipe's grandchildren are running about the _hacienda_."

DeSoto stood away from the wall and slowly walked over to stand by Diego.  "I must have looked like someone _loco_ to him.  I grabbed his arms and demanded to know where you were.  I told him that I knew, and that you had been shot.  At first, he refused, acting as if he did not understand me, but when _Don _Alejandro and Victoria walked in and told him that it was true that Zorro had been hurt, he finally gave in and led us into the cave, where we found you being guarded by that _horse_ of yours."  Diego grinned at the disdain in DeSoto's voice.  He doubted Toronado would ever grow fond of the _alcalde_ either.

"Diego needs his rest.  He is healing and that takes a lot of energy," Dr. Hernandez said as he walked in the room.  "I know that you all have a million questions, but I think there has been enough tonight."  

Victoria finally looked at Diego, and his heart hurt from seeing the pain and tiredness in her eyes.  Walking over to the bed, she smiled at him before sitting on the bed.  "One moment, Doctor," she said with a grin.  "I have promised all week to do something, and I plan on doing it."

Diego briefly worried she would follow-through on her threat of murdering him before her lips landed on his, forcing his mouth open for a deep kiss.  His heart sped up and joy flowed through him.  She was kissing him, _him_, and not the legend.  Her lips left his all too soon.  She reached over and put something in his palm.  It was his mother's ring.

Before he could even feel disappointment or fear, she told him what she wanted from him.  "In a month, I expect Diego de la Vega to make a public fool of himself professing his love to everyone.  I then want him to propose, where I will amaze everyone by accepting--I'm tired of waiting for Zorro!  After DeSoto's words in the tavern about us, many people have been telling me you would be perfect for me, so it should be believable.  You will then place that ring back on my finger, but you are going to keep it close while you are healing.  I want you to know I'm with you, even when I'm not here.  When you feel better, maybe Zorro can attack you for daring to steal his woman," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Diego smiled and drew her in for another kiss.  Doctor Hernandez gently cleared his throat to remind the two lovers to come up for air.  Diego looked at the room, his cheeks red and his eyes laughing.  

Victoria's expression matched his own.  "I think I will enjoy getting to know you, Diego de la Vega.  Your not Zorro and your not _Don_ Diego--you are this wonderful cross in-between," she whispered in his ear before leaving.  Hearing the gently swoosh of her skirts, and knowing that soon he could hear that sound in his _hacienda_ everyday, filled him with happiness.  She loved _him_.

"Get better, Diego.  Everyone who knows your secret will keep it, and we have a lot of work to do," the _alcalde_ ordered before he exited the room.  Watching the man struggling to walk out in a straight line, Diego hoped he would finally get some sleep.  His slow gait and sunken eyes said that he had had little rest since the shooting.

"Father," Diego started.  He wanted to explain why he had never told this man the truth, why he let him believe his son was a coward.

_Don _Alejandro sat down beside the hurt man.  "No, no, Diego.  You do need your rest.  I'll get my explanations tomorrow.  You rest easy and know that I love you.  I'm proud of you, my son, for all you've done as Zorro.  But I'm even more proud of you for being a man who could play the weakling, facing public ridicule, to help the truly weak.  I just wish your mother could be here to see the kind of man to whom she gave birth," Alejandro said, his hand lying on Diego's shoulder.  "Sleep.  I'll see you in the morning."  He turned and joined Felipe at the door.  Diego's future son waved quickly and left with his soon-to-be grandfather.

After drinking down a foul liquid, and promising Doctor Hernandez that he would rest, Diego closed his eyes.  He finally knew the answer to the question that had plagued him for so long: what the _alcalde_ was up to.  And the answer was incredible and wonderful; the _alcalde_ was up to changing who he was to become someone better.  He was becoming a man that would take responsibility for his own actions, and understand the driving motivation of others.  He could feel compassion.

Diego could not help smiling.  Finally, Diego de la Vega would be able to live.  His father and Victoria, and even the _alcalde_, knew his secret, a secret that was no longer needed.  True, there may still be the occasional bandit that would require Zorro's help, but DeSoto knew where to find him.

Diego laughed slightly as he started to fall asleep.  Who would ever believe that the _alcalde_ and Zorro were becoming friends?


End file.
